


Passing Glances

by smutpeddler



Series: Never Been The Clothes That Make The Man [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Bar, F/M, Flirting, Flirty Barba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 02:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5611006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smutpeddler/pseuds/smutpeddler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes there are only coincidences in a world full of constants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passing Glances

  Rafael was talking to his mother outside her school the first time he saw her. He thought nothing of it, just a passing glance of appreciation for her form that his mother thankfully missed. They continue on their way, discussing recent family gossip and him dodging questions from the nosy woman about a certain _Sergeant_. Because this is the closest thing to "free time" he'll ever achieve at this point in his life. A passing glance is the best he'll get, and he's thankful to have it.

 

  He enjoys dinner with his mother, more thankful for the home cooked meal than he's ever had words for. They reminisce, remember is _abuela_ and smile, and they laugh. Real laughs. It's a nice break, but eventually all good things must come to an end and she yawns. He excuses himself for the night. They hug and like always Lucia tells her son she loves him and demands he stops working so hard. She doesn't say grandchildren but the word is heavy in the air. Some nights, he laughs, promises not to and heads home or to the office to work until he was sure his eyes might pop out of his head. Others, like tonight, he can't help but truly agree with her and he can't bare the idea of going home. Rafael always goes home.

   Tonight he decided to prolong the inevitable. No doubt he'll end up at home, but it doesn't have to be soon.

   Rafael walks down the block, then the next, he wanders aimlessly, taking lefts and rights at his passing fancy. His mom was right, he really needed to slow down - _not that she has much room to talk._ He watches a couple exit a door just a head to his left. Sometimes he wishes it could be more than a glance. The blazing NO MINORS ALLOWED telling him clearly it was a bar, a very well times bar as his thoughts started to make him itch for whiskey. He pulls open the heavy door, heat cascading over his chilled face and some rock song almost a soundtrack to the scene in front of him. Two pool tables stood in the corner, one occupied by a woman with her low cut jeans barely visible pressed against the table's edge and flirting heavily with an older man leaning on his pool cue in front of her. The second was a foursome of clearly old-timer patrons playing a very serious game of doubles. The tables had a few sparse smatterings of couples and singles. Then there was the bar, empty except for a large, muscular man at the end, his shaggy hair hiding his face as he nursed a large beer.

   And then the bartender. His breath hitches when he sees her,  _his passing glance._ This is part where is brain tells him to turn around and go home. that whatever happens next could only be long and messy. He holds his breath, waiting for the familiar thought to cross his mind, it never does. Instead he finds himself striding towards the bar, pulling off his scarf with a gusto not unlike stepping into a courtroom. His fleeting look hadn't given her enough credit, there was so much more to the tall, lean woman than flowing black hair and long legs than those mere seconds could encompass. Rafael slides his jacket off his shoulders with practiced poise, watching her thin hands wrap around the whiskey bottle, black nails clinking on the thick glass. The fluidity of her arms as she poured a double shot, a smirk across her scarlet painted lips. _No one meets happiness in a bar,_ one of his mother's friends once said, when he was just a freshman in college. He doesn't know if he believes it, rolling up his sleeves, watching her grey eyes roll from behind the thick black rims of her glasses at that shaggy haired man. This wasn't love, no, but it was a fine alternative, at least kitty-corner to happiness.

   "What can I get'cha, sweetie?" her smokey voice calls ahead of her as she steps forward, eyes on the bar. He can't see the legs striding towards him, but he sure remembers them, " _Oh, it's you!"_ it's a sweet sound, spoken only once her eyes finally fall on him, "You were with Ms. Lucia this afternoon, right?" she's smiling at him, and it makes her cheeks round and the black lines at the edges of her eyes crinkle.

   "Yes. Yes, I was," he laughs a bit, unable to come up with a better reply, and he leans forward a bit on the bar, "You might be surprised to hear she's my mother," he doesn't know why he says it. But he's happy he did when she laughs and leans towards him as well, elbows on the bar.

   " _You poor thing!"_ she pats his forearm lightly with a nod, "Well, first drinks on the house."

   He gives a forced, solemn nod, "You're too kind."

   She stands to her full height, well above his, with a wider grin, "District Attorneys are scotch people, right? I feel like television got that right."

   "You would indeed be right," he's flirting.  _Actually flirting._ It took him a moment to even realize he was. He hadn't really flirted since - _oh god-_ Law School.

   The drink appears in front of him and he smiles into the glass as he takes a sip, "Is this free top shelf?"

   Her chuckle is low in her throat, it feels almost noir and he starts to wonder if maybe this scene shouldn't be in black and white, "Only the best for a Barba."

   He holds it up, "Well then, cheers," and the next gulp is long and deep, "So, you have a kid at-"

   " _Oh no, no,"_ she answers before he can finish, shaking her head, as if she'd never want him to think such a thing about her, "Definitely not," Did that mean she was flirting to? "I was picking up my nephew. His," jerking her thumb at his fellow nar occupant, "Unholy spawn."

  He sighs internally, almost thinking  _good,_ "Sounds like fun," taking a long sip.

  Her shrug takes over the whole width of her shoulders, he finds himself watching the perfect angle of her jutting collar bone for a handful of seconds, "It's not so bad. Except, they're twin boys. So..."

   " _Ah,"_ and the both laugh.

  There's the short pitter-patter into silence. Rafael  _wants_ to flirt more, it's a strange feeling, but it's amazing. Actually loosening up, getting to forget about the day to day. Just a man interested in an attractive woman.

  "Virginia," she laugh, topping off his drink, "And you'd be Rafi."

  He hates the childhood nickname, he's hated it ever since he graduated high school. He hates that his whole family, even his mother, still uses the childish name to refer to a grown man, but it sounds almost sweet when she says it. He finds himself rethinking the name.

  "Rafael. But it's up to you,  _sweetie,"_ they share a laugh and it feels like they're almost back on track. Her-  _Virginia-_ mouth opens, and he finds himself ready to hang on every word and then his phone goes off. Just a short, elongated beep but he knows what it means. It means it's over. The real world has leaked into the bubble. He pulls his phone out, eyes already knowing what the screen will say - _Benson._

  But she smiles. He doesn't expect it, "Your job is never done," her lithe fingers wrap around a pen behind her ear and the others grab a napkin from behind the bar, "Since I can assume between Ms. Lucia and you're job that you're a pretty upstanding guy," writing as she speaks, it takes him back to college a bit, and she hands over the flimsy bit of paper, "I like to keep it old school, so call me sometime, yeah? Not text. I've got too much going in a day to remember that."

  " _Of course,"_ he slips his jacket on, keeping the excitement out of his voice as he slides the napkin carefully into his pocket, "As long as you pick up," climbing to his feet, finding himself having to drag his eyes upwards a bit to meet her eyes and smile.

  "You got it,  _Rafi."_

Even though his night is interrupted, he's forced to go back into work, and a cab is going to be Hell to find. Rafael Barba can't help but smile.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I finally got this out. I've been struggling with it for a while and I finally got it to a place where I am happy.
> 
> I want to apologize for any tense shifts that don't make sense. A lot of time, because sometimes I refer to the present as past and the future as present and blah, in my every day life I transfer that to my writing depending on how it sounds.
> 
> Edited for typos now too.


End file.
